Nexus
by foxxglove
Summary: An accident in Potions class leads to some awkward situations for both Hermione and Draco. How ever will they cope?


I am neither tall, nor blonde nor English. Ergo, I do not own this.

**Nexus**

**Chapter One: Unlikely Beginnings**

Hermione fastidiously diced the handful of dried wolfsbane as she kept a vigilant eye on the cauldron bubbling next to hers. The previous five years had taught her much in the way of potions and certain Gryffindor boys. Namely, that they did not mix well. With that in mind, Hermione considered it her somewhat onerous duty to her house to keep a careful watch on all that entered Neville's cauldron.

"Neville!" she cried out, "you only need to add a pinch of the crushed beetle. If you add more than that, it'll _explode_." 

The owner of the cauldron-next-door blushed and hurriedly put back a large handful of the powdery blackish-brown substance.

She released her shoulders from their tense position shook her head ever so slightly. Some things never changed.

After adding the now perfectly minced wolfsbane to her own potion, Hermione sat down on her stool with a noisy exhalation of air. Her potion was almost complete. Idly she cast her gaze about the busy classroom.

Over to her left, Ron was muttering darkly under his breath as he struggled with a large, unwieldy jar of bubotuber pus.

Further away, Harry was peering dubiously into his cauldron with a rather hesitant expression on his face and a large pile of ground branwort in his hand. He appeared to be quietly cursing a certain potions master at the same time. Hermione could almost smell the impending disaster.

However, before any such calamity was allowed to occur, Professor Snape bit out, "Class to the front. _Now_. I will demonstrate the effects of his potion in its correct form. For those of you who may actually want to do well in the next examination (at this he glared at Ron and Dean) this may come in. useful."

As Hermione swung around to get off her seat, she accidentally knocked her eagle feather quill to the floor with her elbow. Since it was her favourite (a part of a Christmas present from Harry), there was no way she was just going to leave it there for someone to _step_ on.

Hastily she bent down to pick up her quill. As she straightened up, she noticed an odd coloured smoky gas arising from Neville's cauldron. She opened her mouth to warn him, "Neville there's-" but was cut off mid sentence as an incredible explosion flung her back into someone behind her. The world ceased to exist.

***

Whilst Hermione had been industriously absorbed in the fine art of potion-making, another student in her class had not.

Draco sat at his table fantasising over the outcome of the upcoming Quidditch match against his archrivals. Against his arch_rival_. Potter was going down.

In Draco's mind, Gryffindor was just about to lose the match thanks to an astounding performance courtesy of one blond Slytherin seeker. He could almost feel the Snitch in his hands, its little wings slowly fluttering to a halt as he started to grasp it victoriously. Just a little further, in his mind he stretched out his fingers and- 

"Oof". 

An elbow in the ribs via Goyle rather harshly interrupted his contemplations of glory causing him to let out an extremely undignified and altogether rather strangled yelp.

It seemed that even in his daydreams he never quite managed to beat Pothead.

"Hey Draco, Snape wants us at the front." The statement was followed closely by yet another careless jab at his now smarting midsection.

Draco cast a menacing glare at the back of Goyle's head as he indolently levered himself off the seat and began to make his way to the front of the class.

He had nearly drawn level with Granger when he felt, rather than saw, a very intense explosion.

The last things he sensed were a body being hurled into his own and the warm sticky splattering of droplets of Neville's anomalous concoction on his skin.

Then Draco Malfoy lost all consciousness.

***

There was, for a moment, a profound silence. An unfathomable, very abject lack of commotion.

Then all hell broke forth as the magnitude of what had just occurred was realised by the 'survivors.'

Parvati and Lavender began to have hysterics as they considered the very real possibility that two of their classmates were dead.

Slytherins and Gryffindors alike began clamouring for a view of the unconscious pair.

Harry and Ron were attempting to shove their way through the other students to get to their friend.

Neville began stammering out apologies and begging forgiveness of whoever would listen.

In short, the lesson was forgotten.

Snape stalked over to the carnage and grimly surveyed the two unconscious students before barking out his orders.

"You there, Thomas," he said, pointing to Dean. "Run to the infirmary and inform Madam Pomfrey that she shall have two new charges arriving shortly. NOW."

He turned sharply and surveyed the gathered students with narrowed eyes.

"Longbottom, if you do not cease your imbecilic whining right now then I shall be forced to give you something really worth whining about."

He scowled irately at the target of his words.

"Potter, Weasley, (both of whom jerked in surprise at being seen) do not attempt to even touch Ms. Granger. Unless of course, our resident celebrities have a death wish," he added snidely. "We know neither just what they have been infected with nor if it is contagious, lethal or poisonous." (At which point he levelled another threatening glare at Neville)

Having fulfilled his daily quota of Gryffindor/Harry/Neville/Incompetence insults, he then proceeded to levitate both Hermione and Draco and left the class with a warning:

"You will behave. Or I shall have entertainment every night for the next six weeks."

And with that, the Hogwarts Potions Master strode down the cold passages of the dungeons, followed by the seemingly lifeless bodies of two students and the heavy sound of his boots on the cold, hard flagstones.

***

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